


If the world stops spinning tomorrow, we can't keep running away from who we are

by chick_with_wifi



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Part-time vigilantes, badassery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-06 13:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: John’s plans for a peaceful friday night went out the window a long time ago; but with Root unconscious on his sofa, Harold claiming his dog has been stolen and Sameen having set her physics notes on fire, John just wishes he could say that was the most eventful evening he’d ever had. And that's without even mentioning the gang of criminals that may or may not be after them.





	1. 1

Root stumbled on the uneven ground and grabbed the back of an old, rusted bench for support. Her hands were shaking, but she couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the adrenaline still coursing through her system.

She tried to listen out to see if she had been followed, but only one working ear and the distant sounds of cars and sirens meant she couldn’t really glean much information. 

Either way, she suspected everyone else had been arrested. Last she saw, Daniel was standing in front of the police car being handcuffed and Martine had a service weapon trained on her as she stood with her hands up. Root didn’t remember seeing Jeremy, though. The scumbag must have run off into the woods same as her, albeit in the opposite direction.

It was a pity. Out of all of them, he was the only one that definitely deserved to be behind bars. But that was the way of the world: comeuppance was escaped by those who deserved it the most. Like reverse-karma.

Root sat down on the bench and fumbled in her leather jacket pocket for her phone. Even though she was in the middle of nowhere, there was still two bars of signal. Muttering a quiet thank you to the universe, she scrolled down her contacts and dialed the only person she trusted not to ask too many questions.

The light from her phone screen was the only source of illumination, since the area was so out of the way that streetlamps were apparently unnecessary. It made sense, considering the only thing behind her was a large wood and the road in front of her didn’t bear the even slightest sign of life. 

She clutched her phone like a lifeline and tried to calm her breathing as the dial tone beeped. She wasn’t crying, but she was close to tears and her throat felt tight.

A calm voice answered on the third ring, “hello?”.

Relief flooded through her and caused her to nearly drop her phone. “Hell -” her voice cracked, but she steeled herself - “Hello. I’m so sorry to bother you but I didn’t know who else to call. Something’s happened - it’s bad. I’m on the corner by the gas station, can you come and get me?”

The words spilled out of Root, her voice as jittery as she was feeling. The guilt she felt at asking for help was only held at bay by the cold absorbing into her soul and the pain in her legs and back.

“Of course. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you.” Root started to say something else, but bit back her words before they left her lips. _Please can you stay on the line?_ she wanted to ask, but managed to convince herself she didn’t need it.

When she saw headlights approaching a few minutes later, she was finally able to relax slightly. The car pulled over and John got out.

Just the sight of him was enough to send her over the edge and spiralling into uncontrollable sobbing. “I made a mistake, John. I should never have agreed to this - I should have known - and now it’s all my fault.”

He didn’t say anything, just walked over to the bench and put his hand on hers. A comforting, grounding presence that helped Root get a better handle on her emotions. “Can we get out of here?” she asked quietly.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he said, offering her his arm and helping her stand.

When they were in the car, John handed Root a tissue and she blew her nose loudly. Then he started the engine and drove them towards civilisation. “Do you want to spend the night at my place?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.” She paused and took a breath. “You're probably wondering what happened.”

Without taking his eyes off the road, he said, “Only if you want to talk about it.” 

“Business deal gone wrong.” Root closed her eyes and sighed. She was starting to feel woozy and her head was pounding. Thankfully the heat of the car helped with the pain, enough that she could just about ignore it.

A few minutes later they pulled into John’s driveway and went into his house. Root immediately made a beeline for the sofa and all but collapsed onto it, curling into a ball on her side and closing her eyes.

“Do you need anything from your house?” John asked her.

“Yeah,” Root said. “My chair, meds, a change of clothes and some toiletries. Harry has a spare key, provided he’s still awake. Oh and, I’m about to lose conscious now but there's no need to worry.”

Her voice trailed off at the end of her sentence and John had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Root was so dramatic. But at least she'd had the presence of mind to lie down.

But still, he was worried about her. She sounded really distressed on the phone and it was never a good sign when somebody asked you to pick them up from the wood on the edge of the city in the middle of the night, then promptly passed out on your sofa.

He suspected it might have something to do with her recent coding project and shady dealings that she always said she couldn't talk about but ended up talking about anyway. Not that he could really understand her computer talk, but Harold did and repeatedly lectured Root on how she was being irresponsible.

So John resolved to ask Harold if he knew anything about what Root had been up to when he brought her stuff over.

John called Harold, and he answered on the first ring which John assumed meant he already had his phone near him. He also sounded remarkably wide awake for such a late hour.

“So uh Harold. Root is unconscious on my sofa and asked if you could get some of her stuff from her house.”

“Is she alright?” He sounded worried. There was a quiet thump in the background, followed by an indistinct voice and Harold irritably shushing someone.

“I don't know. I’m hoping she will be able to tell us more when she wakes up.” John glanced back at Root, noting how pale and delicate she looked.

“Let’s hope so. What does she need me to get?”

“Her wheelchair, medication a change of clothes and some toiletries. She didn't specify which ones.”

“OK. I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye.” John hung up and went to make a cup of tea while he waited for Harold.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and John opened the door to see Harold carrying a large black holdall and a shorter woman that John didn't recognise behind him who was pushing Root’s wheelchair.

“I didn't know what to bring so I just put everything in this bag,” Harold explained on his way in. When he caught sight of Root, his sharp intake of breath was audible. “Oh my. She doesn't look so good.”

“Where do you want this?” the woman asked, gesturing to the chair.

“In that corner, I suppose,” Harold said, pointing. “This is Sameen. She is in some of my classes, and spent most of her evening copying my physics notes because of an unfortunate incident in which she set hers on fire.”

Sameen rolled her eyes. “I wasn't just copying notes, I was also helping Harold look for his dog. He thinks Bear might have been stolen.”

“I’m fairly sure Jeremy Lambert is behind it,” Harold said darkly. “I always said he couldn’t be trusted.”

“Jeremy Lambert?” came Root’s quiet voice from the sofa. She sat up weakly and gave Harold a serious look. “It appears we have a common enemy.”

He pressed his lips together. “How so?”

“He is the one responsible for everything that happened tonight.” Root paused to cough. “I’ll tell you more later but right now we need a way find his sorry ass. And get Harry his dog back.”

“Not that I’m objecting to your plan, Miss Groves, but are you sure you’re in a state to do this?”

Root blinked, looking hurt at his comment. “I never thought it would be you that started telling me how to live my life,” she said coldly.

“I was merely -” Harold began, but Root cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Look,” she said. “I know this is far from ideal but we need to get to Jeremy first, before he realises I have this.” She held up a black flashdrive. “And the one he has is a fake.”

“Oh Miss Groves…” Harold whispered. “What have you done this time?”

-

John heard footsteps behind him and turned to see the woman with the ponytail, Sameen. Now that he got a better look at her, he remembered seeing her out on the football pitch a few times. “Hey,” he said. “I’m making coffee, do you want some?”

“Yeah sure.” She walked over to him and leant against the kitchen counter. “It's kinda late...well, early. Shouldn't you be sleeping or something?”

John shrugged as he poured Sameen a cup of coffee and slid it across the counter to her. “It's kinda hard to sleep with all these crises going on.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She drained her cup in one huge gulp. “It's gotta be pretty exciting, having friends like these. Does this kind of thing happen often?”

“That's one way of putting it and, regrettably, this does happen quite a bit. But you seem to be doing fine all by yourself, setting your physics notes on fire and all.”

Sameen grinned. “Gotta show my general disdain for society somehow.”

Remind me to never leave you and Root together unsupervised, John thought to himself. We’d have a four alarm fire in minutes.

Sameen put her empty mug in the dishwasher then settled herself comfortably on one of the barstools. “So: Root. What's her story?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve just noticed she doesn't talk about herself too much.”

“She could say the same about you,” John pointed out.

“Yeah, but if we're going to be working together I’d like to know a little more about her.”

“Such as…”

“How you two met. Or why she uses a wheelchair.”

John had a feeling Sameen wasn't expecting to hear the same story for both. But regardless of that he answered, “That's not my story to tell. If you want to know more about Root, you should really be asking her.”

“OK,” Sameen said, hopping off the barstool. “Thanks for the talk.”

“You're welcome?” John said to her retreating back, wondering how long it would be before he could go to bed.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a lot darker than I intended so: content warning for blackmail, threat, violence and injury.

The following morning, Sameen stood in the kitchen and kept half extending her hand like she wanted to open a cupboard then thought better of it. In the end she just settled for giving the worksurface her best glare and blaming it for all her problems. 

“You seem a little out of place,” Root commented casually from the doorway, arms folded across her chest.

“Just trying to figure out how long it is socially acceptable to be in somebody’s house before you can help yourself to their food.”

Root smiled and crossed the room in two steps, ignoring the bar stool in favour of sitting on the countertop and helping herself to an apple from the fruit bowl. “Eat whatever you want. John won't mind and he has enough to feed a varsity hockey team.” She took a bite of apple, then continued to talk around her mouthful. “Social scripts deserve their own circle in hell.”

Sameen paused her rummaging through John’s cupboards to look up at Root in surprise. “You too?”

Root slowly finished her mouthful of apple then said, “And the DSM also belongs in that circle.”

“You got that right,” Sameen muttered, choosing a multipack bag of chips from the cupboard then closing the door.

“Root! Sameen!” John called from the living room. “Harold has stuff he wants to discuss with you.”

The two girls rolled their eyes then entered the living room and sat on the sofa. Harold and John were on the opposite sofa with Harold’s laptop on the coffee table in front of them.

“If we're going to locate Jeremy,” Harold began. “I’m going to need as much information as you can give me, Root. Tell me about what you were doing earlier tonight.”

Root sighed and ran a hand through her hair tiredly. “Fine. Jeremy wanted me to make him some code: a null worm that can infect nearby devices wirelessly. Daniel and I made it and went to the meeting point that Jeremy had selected, but when we got there I gave him the fake flashdrive and kept the real one. I had a feeling he was going to doublecross us, maybe pull a gun on us or something. But instead he called the cops and everyone except Jeremy and myself were arrested. Even his own people.”

“That guy is a psycho,” Sameen said while loudly crunching on her chips. Harold stared at her in disgust. “What? You can't expect me to strategize on an empty stomach. ”

He shook his head. “Just don't get food on my computer.”

Sameen gave him a two-finger salute and smirked.

“Anyway,” Harold continued. “We know that he wanted code from Root, presumably planning to use it to expand his evil empire. But whatever does he want with Bear? Besides wanting to irk me.”

John and Sameen shared a look and shrugged.

“Isn't it obvious?” Root asked, looking around the room but being met only with blank faces. “He wants leverage. Since I won't give him the code and Daniel is now in prison, he’s going to make you do it.”

“What?” Harold asked quietly.

“That's how he works, blackmailing people into doing what he wants. The only reason I agreed to meet with him was to see if I could bluejack his phone and maybe delete some of his evidence. Sadly I was unsuccessful. This also presents another reason we need to find that oaf, before he contacts you with his threat.”

Harold paled. “I see,” he said in a strained voice. It was at that exact moment that his phone rang and the four of them all stared at it in horror. After letting it ring for a few seconds, Harold tentatively picked it up. “Hello?” Pause. “Yes alright. I’ll be there.” He hung up shakily and dropped his phone as though it had burned him. “That was Jeremy. He wants to meet me at an abandoned factory this evening to make the exchange - the null worm for Bear.”

“I’m so sorry,” John said, putting a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “We won't let him win, I promise.” 

“Thank you, John.” Harold sighed and leaned back tiredly. 

“We're going to teach that jerk a lesson, right?” Sameen asked. “Maybe not right now because it’s five in the morning, but definitely later.”

“Of course we are. Right now we should get some sleep, or we'll be no use at this exchange,” John said.

So they grabbed a few hours of sleep, then freshened up and changed their clothes, before meeting back in the living room for a final planning session.

“Harold, your priority is to get Bear and then get both of you out safely. John and I will take care of Jeremy,” Root said.

“What are you going to do?” Harold asked cautiously.

“It's safer if you don't know.” For a moment Root’s voice had a weight to it, as though she felt guilty about something. But she cleared her throat and carried on, “And Sameen will wait outside to get Harold and Bear away to safety.”

“Good plan,” John said to Root. 

She smiled at him then sat in her wheelchair and slung her backpack over the back of it. While putting on her fingerless cycling gloves, she asked, “Anybody else looking forward to kicking Jeremy’s butt?” 

"That is a rather vulgar way of phrasing it, but yes,” said Harold.

It was only a twenty minute walk to the meeting place, so they didn't use the car. John and Harold walked in front, out of earshot from the two girls.

“So, you're going to delete all his blackmail stuff?” Sameen asked Root.

“That's the plan,” Root replied brightly. “Then won't be able to manipulate any more people. If we’re lucky, maybe we can even get him arrested. Iron heights should be able to hold him.”

“What dirt does he have on you, to get you to make that worm thing?”

“He doesn't.” Root’s facial expression darkened. “It was pure chance that his first attempt to kill me wasn't successful, I have no doubt he would be more than willing to finish the job. That was incentive enough to get me to make the null worm, but not enough to make me give it to him.”

“I’m sorry,” Sameen said.

“Don't be,” Root replied gently. “It's not your fault. So anyway, how exactly did you get involved in this whole mess?”

“I’m in some of Harold’s classes and I know John through sport and stuff. We weren't really friends, but after I set my physics notes on fire - long story - Harold offered to let me copy his. Then after _that_ his dog was stolen and I helped him look for it. Then he got the call from John while you were unconscious and seemed to think I might be able to help.” She shrugged. “So you could say I’m only in it for the dog.”

Root laughed. “I promise we will get Bear to safety.”

By that time they had arrived at the abandoned factory, which was surrounded by scaffolding and mounds of dirt.

“When Jeremy said this place is abandoned he really wasn't kidding,” Root commented casually, steering her wheelchair around the piles of rubble and unused planks of wood.

Once she had reached the door, she spun to face her friends. “Sameen you wait here, alright? As soon as Harry comes out with Bear, you get out of here as fast as you can. John and I will call you later to say we’re ok.”

Sameen looked worried. “Why are you being so shady about this?”

“John and I have something personal to finish with Jeremy,” Root said calmly. “Now are you going to wait here or not?” Her tone didn't leave much room for disagreement.

“I will, but I want to go on record as not liking this plan.” To prove she was staying put, Sameen sat on one of the piles of wood. 

“Noted,” Root replied. Then she opened the unlocked door and noticed that there was quite a high step up to the entrance. “Hey John, can you give me a hand?”

Root leaned back in her chair until the smaller front wheels lifted off the ground, then John placed a hand on the back of her chair so she wouldn't tip backwards while she wheeled herself forwards until the small wheels were on top of the step. Then she wheeled herself forwards while John gave a gentle push and entered the building. “Thanks.”

Harold closed the door behind them and then surveyed the dusty room which had rusting pieces of equipment piled up at the sides.

“And the humble adventurers found themselves in an eerily empty and shamefully handicap inaccessible abandoned factory,” Root said in a cheesy narrator voice.

“I’m gonna guess Jeremy is somewhere over that way,” John said quietly, pointing to a set of footprints in the inch-thick dust that led to the room on their left.

“I think you're right,” Harold agreed.

Root nodded, then found a gap in the machinery pile that was out of sight of the next room then got her laptop out of her bag and placed it on her lap. “Luckily, everyone carries some electronic device on them nowadays so I should be able to access Jerk-ery’s account. I’ll keep in touch over this encrypted network -” she handed John a bluetooth earpiece and kept one for herself “- while you distract him and Harry gets Bear.” She gestured towards the doorway. “Good luck. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Harold and John entered the second, larger room and found Jeremy sitting with his feet on a desk looking like a comic book villain. “I’m glad you could make it. I believe you remember the terms of our deal?”

Harold nodded, holding out a flashdrive. “Your null worm.” But when Jeremy reached to take it, Harold withdrew his hand. “It might be stating the obvious to say that I don't trust you, but I’m going to say it anyway: I don't trust you. Return Bear unharmed first, then I’ll give you the flashdrive.”

Jeremy snapped his fingers and one of his minions entered with Bear on a leash.

“As a gesture of good faith, you can see your dog is unharmed. Plug your flashdrive into that computer and show me the code, then we can make the exchange.”

Harold did as instructed.

“Keep him talking,” Root hissed in John’s earpiece. “I’m almost done.”

Then they made the exchange and Harold quickly left the room. John was about to follow when two more of Jeremy’s minions appeared and one produced a knife from his coat pocket.

“Harold run!” John yelled. Then, under his breath, “Root he has backup, I’m gonna need your help.”

Holding Bear’s leash, Harold left the building as quickly as he could.

Root continued typing rapidly, then slammed her laptop closed and exclaimed, “Done! John, I’m coming to you.”

She abandoned her bag on the floor and made her way to the second room, while John started wrestling one of the men. The one with the knife was guarding Jeremy, until he saw Root enter.

Then he charged towards her, brandishing his knife.

Root had to think fast, so she pulled off one of her cycling gloves and threw it onto the floor between them. “I challenge you to a duel!”

The minion looked back at Jeremy for advice, who shrugged. So the minion just turned back to Root and lunged at her with his knife.

But Root removed one of the footrests from her wheelchair and used it like a club, blocking his knife and getting in as many blows as she could.

“You should know that this is the strangest thing I’ve ever done,” she announced between clangs of metal on metal. The minion’s knife hit the metal of her footrest and embedded itself in the paint. For a moment they were at an impasse, Root using both hands to push the metal bar back while the minion pushed in the opposite direction and there was no movement either way. Then Root said, “The thing about the wheelchair is that it really builds upper body strength.” She gave one final shove, causing the minion to stumble backwards then shoved her elbow into his chest and knocked him out with her footplate for good measure.

Then she pocketed his knife and frowned sadly at the scratched paintwork on her footrest before fixing it back on her chair. It was at that exact moment that she happened to look up and see Jeremy making a run for it.

“John, go after him!” she yelled.

John, who was fighting two minions at once, glanced over at her. “Are you sure you’ve got thi-” then he noticed the unconscious minion on the floor. “Yeah I’ll go after him.”

John gave chase and left Root fighting the two minions, armed with only a knife. But soon she heard a strange sound above the clangs and grunts. Something mechanical. Through one of the windows she saw a forklift headed towards the building with a bulldozer in the background.

“He’s gonna bulldoze the place with us in it!” Root said into her earpiece. “We need to find a way out!”

But John didn't reply, presumably he had lost his earpiece at some point during the fight.

“Actually,” said Sameen, entering the room covered in dust and dirt. “He won't be bulldozing anything. I stole his keys...and his packed lunch.”

“How did you get in here?” Root asked, without pausing her combat with the two minions - one of whom was apparently unarmed and the other brandishing a baseball bat.

“Crawled under the fence then through fifty yards of air duct. You owe me big time.” Then she grabbed the wrist of the minion and squeezed until he dropped the baseball bat and cuffed him upside the head with it.

Root stared at her openmouthed while trying to get the other minion in some form of headlock, then flipping him over her shoulder.

“What are you staring at, this isn't Iran’s Got Talent,” Sameen said.

Root smirked at her, then her attention was immediately drawn back to the one remaining minion. He was more muscular than the other two and, as a result, much harder to subdue.

“He’s like a zombie!” Sameen exclaimed, dodging his blow then getting a few of her own in before ducking and thrusting her knee into his groin.

“He’s not a zombie, he’s just a very dedicated minion -” she cuffed him around the ear “- still labouring under the misguided belief that Jeremy actually cares whether he lives or dies.”

“I’m getting bored now,” declared Sameen, rugby tackling him hard enough that they both skidded across the dusty floor towards the doorway. She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him up, then winced as something sharp jabbed into her abdomen. Then she kicked him until he stumbled back, grabbed one of his arms to steer him towards the doorway and used her other arm to slam the door against his head.

He dropped unconscious like a sack of potatoes and Sameen let go of his arm. Then she winced and stumbled back against the wall, clutching her abdomen. Her shirt felt sticky and warm under her palm.

“Sameen!” Root exclaimed, wheeling over to her as quickly as she could. Then she gently pried Sameen’s hand away from her injury so she could inspect it. When she caught sight of the damage, she inhaled sharply and furrowed her brows. “You're bleeding!”

“I don't need to be told that, Root,” grumbled Sameen, wincing. 

Root looked back at the minion. “He must have concealed a knife somewhere. Sam, we need to get you medical attention fast. I’m going to get my bag from the other room and call 911. I’ll be right back, ok?”

“No,” Sameen said, her voice strained. “Not 911, they’ll ask too many questions. Call Joss Carter. Do you have her number?”

“Yeah I know Joss. I’ll be right back.” She grabbed her bag from where where she left it on the floor and got her phone out, but there wasn't any signal. They would have to go outside.

She explained as much to Sameen and asked if she could make it that far. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Sameen said. Root raised an eyebrow but didn't press the matter any further. “I need to apply pressure to the wound, can I borrow your jacket?”

“Of course.” Root handed Sameen her leather jacket, which she rolled into a ball and pressed against her abdomen.

“I don't think he hit anything serious, but it hurts like anything.” Sameen’s voice was weak but she insisted on walking. 

They made it about ten feet away from the abandoned factory when Sameen, pale and worn out, nearly collapsed. She grabbed Root’s shoulder to stop herself falling, and Root quickly took both her hands to support her.

“I don't think I can make it,” Sameen panted.

“Here, sit on my lap.” Root’s gentle arms helped Sameen sit down without aggravating her injury, then steadied her and allowed Sameen to rest herself against Root’s body.

“I don't want to hurt you,” Sameen said, trying feebly to push Root’s arms away.

“I think it's safe to say you're the one who's hurt,” Root said quietly. Then she checked her phone again and was relieved to see it had signal. She called Joss and gave her their location, and she promised to be there in five minutes. 

“She’ll be here soon.” Root bit her bottom lip nervously. “I’m sorry, Sameen. You shouldn't have been involved in this. Jeremy has been determined to get rid of me ever since I double crossed him, but I never expected something of this magnitude.” She buried her face in her hands. “I ruin everything.”

By that time, Sameen’s eyes were closed but she was still listening to Root. “Did you delete all that blackmail fodder?”

Root managed a small smile. “Every last bit.”

The next hour or so passed in a blur for Sameen. Joss and one of her friends Madeleine Enright who was training to be a doctor picked them up and explained that John and Harold had contacted them when they hadn't heard anything from them in ages and were beginning to suspect something had happened.

Then Madeleine patched Sameen’s injury up and advised her to visit an actual medical professional, but Sameen refused.

Then she fell into a painkiller-induced sleep. 

-

Root insisted on sitting on the bed next to Sameen until she woke up, which didn't happen for a few hours.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Root said as soon as Sameen’s eyes fluttered open, and she hoped it wasn't obvious that she had been crying earlier.

“Hey,” Sameen said, then winced and looked down at her abdomen. “Wow, that hurts like hell.”

“Stab wound’ll do that to you,” Root said. “But you can’t have any more painkillers for two hours, sorry. Aside from that, how are you feeling?”

“Not too bad.”

“I’m glad.” Root clasped her hands. “After Jeremy found out all his evidence was gone and he realised somebody had gotten the better of him, he actually went to the police and turned himself in. Apparently he thought they would be the better option compared to angry people he used to manipulate. We did good, he won't be blackmailing anybody for a long time. I assume many of his minions were people he was threatening as well, so they can get back to their lives. As for the most loyal ones, I reckon they’ll just have to take up a hobby.”

“And he won't be after you anymore.” Sameen held up her hand for a high five, which Root reciprocated.

“I’m so thankful he’s behind bars,” Root said. “I wasn't exactly a model citizen, but I never hurt anybody. Do you want to know what happened?”

“How you doublecrossed him?” Sameen winced again and slowly shifted into a more comfortable position.

Root nodded, “Mmhm. You deserve to know the story, after all this.”

“If you want to tell me then yeah.” She looked as though she was contemplating sitting up, but thought better of it when Root placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

Root took a deep breath. “Before any of this happened, I used to be a con woman, befriending people then stealing their money. It was a quick way to get cash and I was good at it. But then I realised that I had some competition, the bank accounts of people I hadn't ever spoken to were being mysteriously emptied. I managed to hack their system to find out who their next target was and acted like I was going to con him as well, to see who I was up against when they showed up. At the date and time I’d found on their system, I arrived ready to con somebody out of their life savings. And that somebody was John Reese.

“But I hadn't realised that they were a team, not a person. The information I’d found was fake, which explained why they were so easy to hack. They didn't want to learn about the competition like I did, they wanted to eliminate it.”

Sameen gasped, realisation dawning on her as she pieced together the story.

Root continued, “After a few minutes of nobody showing up, I realised it was a trap and tried to leave. But one of Jeremy’s men, some guy who looked like Van Gogh, shot me. It was meant to be fatal, but the bullet missed my internal organs and exited to the side of my spinal cord. He took a shot at John as well, but missed. He thought I wasn't going to make it, so figured his job was done and left.

“John stayed with me and called 911. The doctors said the bullet had damaged the nerves by my spine. Not paralysis, but I had to go through a year of physical therapy. As you know, I can walk but it is difficult and painful so it’s easier to use a wheelchair for distances. Even though he didn't have to, John became my friend and supported me through all this, which was invaluable considering I didn't have anyone else. He also introduced me to Harold, because he has a similar spinal cord injury and I it meant a lot to be able to talk to someone who understood what I was going through.” She sighed. “Harry and I do have our differences, but we became a team. Trying to stop Jeremy from ruining anybody else’s life.”

Sameen reached over and took Root’s hand. “You did it. That jackass is behind bars.”

“I did.” Root smiled, close to tears. “Thank you Sameen. You don't know how much this means to me.”


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter, hope you enjoy :)  
> Content warning for threat and some violence.

When Sameen finally caught a few minutes of peace between everything that was happening the following morning, she decided to call her best friend Cole.

“You made a big mistake going to Germany,” she said when he answered. “You missed all the excitement.”

“What happened?” Cole asked. Judging from the background noise, he was in a public place.

“Well, I met this girl called Root who was involved in a blackmail thing, but we got the jerk responsible for it arrested. I got stabbed, I set my physics notes on fire and I made friends with John Reese, you know the one from the football team?”

Cole chuckled. “You're a terror, Sam. I’m assuming you were relatively ok after being stabbed, since you're talking to me and all?”

“Yeah. It hurts like the dickens but I’m fine. Root’s much tougher than me though, she got shot and ended up with spinal cord damage. All I did was get in the way of a measly little knife. I didn't see it but I wouldn't be surprised if it was a table knife.”

“You know, Sam, only you would react like that to being stabbed.” Cole paused and hummed thoughtfully. “You said the blackmailer got sent to prison?”

“Yeah. It was some English guy called Jeremy Lambert. Total jackass.”

“I think I know one of his friends, Martine Rosseau,” Cole said. “I’ll ask around and see if anyone knows whether she was involved.”

“Root said she was arrested earlier, when Jeremy called the cops on them all. Listen, Cole, I really don’t think you should get involved in this. These people are really dangerous.”

“OK. I gotta go, they will be calling my flight soon. Bye, Sam. Try not to get stabbed again.”

“Back at you. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Sameen hung up and went back into the living room, where everyone seemed to be congregating. She sat next to Root on the sofa and nodded a greeting to her.

“How do your stitches feel?” Madeleine asked Sameen.

“Fine. No itching or irritation,” Sameen replied. “Sorry about calling you in the middle of the night and everything.”

“It's not a problem,” Maddie said. “I was happy to help. And so was Joss.”

“Totally, when I knew what was going on. At first when Root called I assumed the two of you were out clubbing and needed me to drive you home.” At everyone’s confused stares she continued, “What? They strike me as the sort to be out in da club.”

“Yeah, in da club called bed,” Root said with a laugh.

“Actually I got banned from our local club after starting a brawl,” said Sameen without a hint of shame.

Root leaned slightly closer to Sameen. “This is a story I need to hear.”

“I’ll tell you later, I don't want Joss to disown me.”

Harold raised his hand to get Sameen’s attention. “Speaking of people disowning you, I don't suppose the idea of studying for your physics test has crossed your mind?”

“No, I was a bit too busy _saving all your asses_.”

“But now your recovery presents you with a perfect opportunity for reading your textbook,” Harold said.

Sameen rolled her eyes. “I don't think so, Mom.”

“Careful Shaw,” John said. “Lose your smarts and blondes will be making jokes about you.”

“Oh I’m plenty smart. You just haven't noticed because you're too busy inventing the wheel.Sameen folded her arms. “Now will everyone stop picking on me because I have class tomorrow which, for the record Harold, I am planning on attending.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied smoothly. 

“Maddie and I have to go,” Joss said. “We promised Zoe we would help her choose a dress for her birthday party next week.”

“Bye, and thanks again for coming,” Sameen said.

Once everyone else had said their goodbyes, it was just the four friends and Bear in the house. They decided to take it easy and watch some TV, but the only half decent thing on was Judge Judy.

After Sameen had selected the channel, she glanced at her friends to see if any of them objected. When nobody spoke up, she set the remote on the coffee table then got comfortable in her seat. 

Root’s arm was resting on the back of the sofa and when Sameen leaned back, she idly began playing with her hair. She was half expecting Sameen to object or bat her hand away, but when she didn't move Root decided to carry on. If Sameen really was uncomfortable with it, Root had faith that she would say so.

Then all of a sudden, the TV screen went black. It made all of them sit up and pay attention. John quickly flicked the overhead light on and off to make sure it wasn't a power cut, and Sameen leapt to her feet and was about to check the tangle of wires behind the cabinet when text appeared on the screen that made her freeze in her tracks.

The screen turned white, and ‘Can you see me?’ appeared in underlined black text, with a red arrow pointing upwards below it.

“...Yes,” Sameen replied hesitantly when it became clear nobody else was going to.

‘Good. It was brought to my attention that you people were responsible for one of my best operatives being sent to prison. I am not happy about this.’

Sameen’s first instinct was to look over her shoulder at Root to make sure she was OK. She looked scared and tired, but wasn't panicking.

“Jeremy,” Root whispered.

Turning back to the screen, Sameen said, “Who are you?”

The reply flashed up a second later, word by word. ‘You. Can. Call. Me. Control.’ Then, ‘Do. Not. Interfere. With. My. Work. Again.’

“Your work? I thought we got rid of the head of the beast, so to speak,” Root protested. It was the angriest any of them had ever seen her. “You're telling me that was all for nothing?”

“Yeah,” Sameen said to the screen. “Because Jeremy was following your orders the entire time and now you can just get somebody else to do his job. Am I right?”

‘Yes.’

Under her breath, Root let loose a string of creative curses that made Harold wince.

‘Do. As. I. Say. And. We. Will. Leave. You. Alone. Disobey. Me. And. There. Will. Be. Consequences.’

The screen cut back to black for a second, then Judge Judy recommended as though nothing had happened. 

“Is Control really going to leave us be if we let them carry on with their crimes?” John asked with a hint of skepticism.

“I think so,” Root said. “We have no idea who replaced Jeremy so we don't have any information that means they need to shut us up. Plus, Sameen and I have both been injured at their hands so they don't even need to get us back.” She spread her hands out. “We've reached a truce, far as I’m concerned.”

Once their episode had finished, Sameen went into the bedroom she had claimed for the duration of her stay at John’s and Root followed her, because apparently having nothing to hack meant she needed to follow Sameen around like a little lost puppy to keep from getting bored.

Root sat on the bed, and Sameen stood next to the dresser where her phone was charging. She noticed that it was flashing to indicate she had a voicemail. She picked it up and unlocked it, revealing a missed call from Cole and a voicemail that was also from him.

She listened to the voicemail, which said, “Hey, Sam. I know you told me not to but I did some digging and spoke to a few contacts, it turns out Martine escaped from prison and is holed up somewhere in the city. I have to get my flight now but when I land I'll investigate further. She sounds like bad news and I don't want anyone to get hurt. They're calling my flight now, I gotta go.”

The message ended and Sameen stood immobile, clutching her phone so hard the plastic pressed into her palm painfully.

“Are you OK?” Root asked gently.

“I can't believe Cole would do something so stupid,” Sameen said. Her eyes were glistening with tears and she swallowed thickly. “He’s always running off trying to be the hero, but this time there's no coming back from this.”

Root’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“Cole found out that Martine broke out of prison and now he’s trying to find her. I told him not to get involved, even before we found out about them still being up and running. If Control’s people haven't found him already they will soon, and they'll put a bullet in him and it will be my fault because I didn't get his stupid voicemail sooner!”

Sameen kicked the metal trash can as hard as she could and it flew across the room to hit the wall opposite, making a dent in the plaster.

Root flinched. “Sameen, you're scaring me.”

Sameen took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m just frustrated at myself for letting Cole in on this.” 

Root stood and walked over to Sameen, then cupped Sameen’s face in her hands. “Sam, look at me. I promise none of this is your fault. There was no way you could have known any of this would happen. Cole’s flight doesn't get in until tomorrow so even if Control is planning to apprehend him at the airport there's nothing you can do now. They wouldn't risk the attention caused by harming innocent bystanders, so there's a good chance we will be able to find him before anything happens. Tomorrow we’ll think it over with a fresh perspective and find a way to save him.” 

Sameen sighed softly, some of the tension leaving her body. “You're really gonna help me?”

“Of course. You helped me incarcerate Jeremy, so the least I can do is offer my assistance in saving your friend. Besides, I don't know about you but I’ve gotten quite used to having you at my side during life-or-death situations.”

“I guess I have too.” Sameen’s gaze slipped down to Root’s lips and Root gave an almost imperceptible nod, then Sameen kissed her.

It was incredibly gentle, but still caused Root to lose her balance, so the pair moved backwards so Root could sit on the bed which made her almost the same height as Sameen.

While they kissed, Root wrapped her arms around Sameen and pulled her onto the bed so they were lying down side by side.

“We should probably leave it there for tonight,” Root whispered. “I wouldn't want you to pull your stitches.”

“Ugh, yeah.” Sameen looked down at her injury, but the dressings were clean and it seemed to be healing nicely. 

“And don't worry about Cole, we’re going to save him.”

-

The following morning after the sun had risen, John went and knocked on Sameen’s door to see if she was awake. She responded with a grunt, which he interpreted as ‘come in’ since she hadn't told him to get lost like he’d been expecting.

Upon entering, he was greeted by the sight of Root and Shaw in the same bed with the covers tangled around their legs and Root resting her cheek on Sameen’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh, get a room!”

“We're in a room,” Root mumbled, still half asleep.

“Yeah, a room in _my_ house because one of you is homeless and the other is recovering from being stabbed.”

“You're homeless?” Shaw said quietly to Root.

Root shrugged and tried to burrow further under the covers to go back to sleep.

“But I got your stuff from your house.” Sameen gently batted Root’s shoulder to keep her awake.

“Actually, that was Daizo’s house, why did you think Harry had a key?” Root’s face was pressed into the pillow and - if Sameen wasn't mistaken - there was a slight Texas twang in her voice.

“I’m so confused right now,” Sameen said, more to herself than anyone else. 

John looked extraordinarily embarrassed by this entire display. “I just came in to see if you were awake and let you know that Harold has called in sick for all of us. So I’ll uh be off.”

He left the room as quickly as he could and Root called after him, “We weren't having sex, if that's what you thought. We were sleeping, as is customary at night time!”

Sameen looked at Root, who had emerged from the covers and was stretching like a cat. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Sameen. Did you sleep well?”

“I slept, can't really ask for more than that. You know which airport we need to go to, right?”

-

Root and Sameen arrived at the airport 15 minutes before Cole’s flight was due to land.

They checked the arrivals board then made their way to the terminal as quickly as they could. Root had even found a way to dodge security by going back outside, then going around the back of the building and overriding an automatic door to let them in the exit.

They found the door that the passengers would be coming out of, then they just had to wait.

“So Control won't try anything until Cole is alone, right?” Sameen asked.

Root nodded. “So we need to grab him while he’s still in a crowd. You get your friend out of here as quickly as possible and I’ll distract the guard. I promise he won't bother you.”

“What makes you think that?” Sameen asked. 

Root pointed downwards. “Wheelchair. The security guard will be tripping his own feet to ‘help’ me. It's a blessing and a curse, but when you lead a life of crime it makes sense to use any advantages you have.” 

“I like your style,” Sameen said.

“It's all about working smarter not harder. We don't need to be faster or more powerful than our enemies, but we do need to think everything through and execute our plan with precision.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you're kind of hot when you act like a hardened vigilante?” Sameen asked.

Root looked up at her with a slight frown. “No, actually. Do you really think so?”

“I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it,” Sameen replied.

Their conversation was ended there by the arrival of the passengers from the plane. Root gave Sameen a nod, then made her way over to where the flight attendant and security guard were standing and began a long, detailed story about how she lost her cat and needed them to help her find it. 

As she was doing this, the passengers began to exit the plane and walk through security. Once the security guard and flight attendant were on a wild goose chase (or rather, an imaginary cat chase) Root recognised Cole from a picture Sameen had shown her, and grabbed his arm. He spun to face her with a look of wild confusion and she said, “Michael Cole?”

He nodded nervously and glanced around as if he was considering calling the security guard over.

Root tightened her grip on his arm. “Sameen Shaw is waiting for you over by the water fountain. Go straight to her, try to stay in a crowd and don't make eye contact with anyone. Alright?”

“Uh...I don't…”

“I promise you, I’m here to help. Now, are you going to do as I said?”

Cole swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good.” She patted his cheek. “Thanks for playing.”

Once she had made sure Cole was walking in the right direction, she made her way over to the airport staff and gave them her best disarming grin. “Thank you so much for your help, but my sister has just texted me saying that she found my cat. Sorry to have troubled you, I’ll be off now.”

She made one last sweep of the area but couldn't see anyone that looked like they could be a trained operative in disguise, so she went out the back exit and met Sameen and Cole outside.

“See, I told you we would get him out safely,” Root said cheerfully as they headed towards their car.

“I’m kind of surprised I didn't doubt you, actually.”

Root pouted. “That's not much of a compliment.”

“OK, fine. You did good.”

“Good? I think I did great. Isn't that right, Cole whose life I just saved?” Root looked at Cole expectantly. They had reached the car at that point, and were waiting outside it.

“Yeah, I guess?” Cole cleared his throat. “Not to be rude or anything but like, who are you?”

“Oh sorry!” Sameen exclaimed, as though she had only just remembered that Cole had no idea what was going on. “Cole, Root. Root, Cole. So basically, turns out Jeremy wasn't the head of that evil group and the actual head threatened to kill anyone who interferes with their work. Root and I were worried you were going to be their next target so we came to save you.”

“Thanks,” Cole said sincerely.

Gunfire echoed in the distance as an armoured car appeared at the entrance to the parking lot.

“Spoke to soon,” Sameen said, gesturing for them to get behind the car.

A bullet ricoched of a trash can and embedded itself in the car door inches away from Cole’s face, making him scream.

“Can you take it down a few octaves, Beyonce?” Sameen asked in irritation.

“Sorry.” Cole ducked his head sheepishly. 

“I have a plan,” Root said. “We were right about the people coming to kill him, but I was expecting them to be more punctual.” She pointed to an ‘employees only’ stairwell behind them. “Go down those stairs and get in one of the taxis parked out front. They won't be able to tell who it is because there are so many and they all look the same.”

“What are you going to do?” Sameen asked Root.

“I’ll take the elevator and meet you there. After I’ve dealt with our new friends.”

“That sounds both vague and dangerous.”

“I’ll see you then.” Root nodded them off then turned towards the armoured car.

She met Sameen and Cole in the taxi five minutes later, they had even chosen a handicap accessible one so she didn't have to transfer out of her wheelchair.

“So what did you do?” Sameen asked. 

Root shook her head. “A magician never reveals her secrets, Sameen.”

Sameen scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious! I can't tell you.” 

“Whatever. Just promise me nobody got hurt.”

Root smiled. “That I can tell you. Not one single person was hurt...anywhere other than their pride.”

“She scares me,” Cole said, which made Root smirk wickedly. 

“She did save your life,” Sameen pointed out.

“We seem to be pretty good at this whole saving people thing,” Root said thoughtfully. “Do you suppose we could make it into a career?”

“That isn't a half bad idea,” Sameen said. 

“From what I’ve seen you two make a very good team,” said Cole. “Ignoring how terrifying I find the idea of you two running around New York being chased by people with guns.”

“Oh please, we would be doing the chasing,” Root chastised.

“So where am I actually driving you to?” the taxi driver asked over the intercom. 

-

“Cole once told me he had a crush on me,” Sameen said that night, while she and Root lay in bed staring at the ceiling. “I wondered how, considering I don't have feelings the way most people do. I’ll never be in a ‘typical’ relationship so I figured nobody would want to be in one with me.”

Root propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at Shaw, with dark waves falling into her face. “How do you know?”

Sameen rolled onto her side to face Root, who was gazing at her softly. “You mean, you were serious about the whole ‘liking me’ thing?”

“That kiss was pretty steamy,” Root said. “I kind of assumed that was indication enough.”

“Well in that case…” Sameen brushed Root’s hair out of her face with one hand then pulled her down for another quick kiss. “I think we can work something out.”

“I’d like that,” Root said with a little smile.


End file.
